


Every Inch and Every Pound

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Image, Bottom Dean, Chubby Dean, Come Marking, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Fluff and Smut, Implied Sam/Original Character(s), Insecure Dean, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Top Sam, implied Sam Winchester/others, implied that Sam and Dean are in an open relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during season 6, about a week after Sam gets his soul back. The year Dean spent with Lisa caused some unfortunate side effects, namely that he gained some extra weight around his middle. Now that Sam is re-souled, Dean is scared of what he'll say if he sees Dean with no clothes on, so Dean pushes him away, until Sam finally gets sick of it and corners him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Inch and Every Pound

It’d been a week since Sam had gotten his soul back. He and Dean were hunting yet another generic monster. Everything was back to normal – except Dean.

 

During the year with Lisa, Dean’s training regimen had gone down the drain. Though he still had an active job with his construction, the good, home cooked meals and the lack of forced exercise that he had previously gotten from hunting had caused him to lose some of his previous muscle mass and gain quite a bit of weight.

 

Though it was mostly in his stomach, easily hidden from view with the right clothes, Dean was incredibly self-conscious about it. Even the hunting that they’d done since the soulless version of Sam had walked back into his life hadn’t taken off the weight.

 

It didn’t matter when Sam was soulless. Sure, he’d been a fucking machine, always wanting sex from either Dean or the first girl or guy he could pick up at the bar. Clothes rarely came off when soulless Sam and he had fucked, aside from jeans and boxers being shoved down his hips just far enough to reveal his ass.

 

But now Sam is back – _his_ Sam – and wants to pick things up where they left off before the pit. He knows things have changed, he knows there’s something different about Dean, especially the first night he attempts to shove his hand under Dean’s shirt to feel his heartbeat like they used to.

  
Dean shoved him off, moving to his own bed in the room. He knew it’d hurt Sam, he could feel the confusion and pain radiating off his brother, but he couldn’t bring himself to let Sam see what he’d turned into.

 

Sam had always complimented Dean on his body. How fit he was, how his muscles rippled under his skin, how beautiful he was. He wasn’t any of those things now. Now he was fat, disgustingly so, and found himself sweating so much more than he used to. No. He could hide his gut in baggy clothes, but he couldn’t let Sam see him naked. Not until he fixed himself up again.

 

So that’s where they were. Sam was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, exactly where he belonged, babbling about the victims of what sounded like a werewolf.

 

He’d gone out to the bar last night, and come home smelling of sex and come, looking thoroughly fucked out in a way that made Dean want to cry. He missed his little brother. He missed having Sam in his arms, missed their kisses, their sex, their intimate cuddling in the shower or the bed, or even the Impala while they drove. It took everything he had to keep his distance from Sam, terrified of what he’d say if he saw the truth in all its bare glory.

 

 

Another motel room. Crappy brown walls and two beds with mysterious stains on the floral bedspread, home sweet home.

 

Dean tossed his duffel on the floor and shrugged out of his coat, keeping his back turned to Sam. “I’m taking a shower.”

 

“Okay,” Sam’s voice was soft, but Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on his back. Choosing to ignore it, he snagged his towel from the duffel, piling on a pair of baggy sweats and a too big t-shirt to slip into before stepping into the bathroom.

 

Dean had been standing under the spray for about five minutes when he heard the bathroom door open. “I’m almost done, Sam. Don’t flush,” He called.

 

Instead of replying, Sam pushed open the shower curtain and stood there in just his boxers. Dean gave a decidedly unmanly squeak, turning so his back was to Sam. “What the fuck?!”

 

“Dean, I’m tired of this. You said you still cared about me. You said we were still lovers. But you won’t even sleep with me anymore. What the hell is going on?” Sam asked, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest.

 

Dean looked at him from over his shoulder, his cheeks burning. “I don’t want you to see me like this, Sammy.”

 

“Like how, Dean? What happened to you that you’re so ashamed of?”

 

“I—God, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed even with my baggy clothes.”

 

“Noticed what?!” Sam flung his arms out, frustrated.

 

Dean turned around, holding his arms out in a mirror of Sam’s posture. “I got fat, Sam. I’m fucking gross and I don’t want you to see me like that when you’re always talking about how pretty I used to be.”

 

Sam’s shoulders slumped. He lowered his arms, letting his eyes roam over Dean’s body, taking in everything. “De…”

 

“Yeah, I know. Just say it. I really let myself go this past year. I should eat better. You can’t fuck me while I’m fat.”

 

“No, Dean, no. None of those things,” Sam whispered. He pulled his boxers down and stood still for a moment, allowing Dean to see his cock standing at half-mast and getting steadily harder. He climbed into the shower and grabbed Dean’s upper arms.

 

Dean attempted to fight him off, but Sam held tight, pulling Dean to him and wrapping him in a hug.

 

“I don’t care how big you are, De. You could be five hundred pounds, and I’d still care about you. You’d still be beautiful to me, because you’re my big brother. And you’re my lover. And that’s what matters.”

 

Dean leaned into Sam’s embrace, allowing himself to feel the love radiating off Sam. He curled his arms around Sam’s firm body, closing his eyes.

 

Sam’s voice was soft, speaking against Dean’s ear, “And for the record, De, I still think you’re beautiful. I did notice you’d gained weight, but I don’t mind it. You’re still an efficient hunter, and honestly, when have you ever known me to be the type of guy to care what someone looks like?”

 

“I guess not,” Dean responded, stepping back and looking at Sam under the hot spray. Sam’s smile spread slowly,

 

“Why don’t we take a shower then go to bed?”

 

“I don’t—“

 

Sam held up his hand. “Don’t even bother to argue.”

 

He grabbed the washcloth from the bar and soaped it up, stepping close to Dean. He washed him from his neck to his feet, exactly like they used to before, not letting the extra weight change a single thing. When he finished, on his knees, he set the cloth aside and looked up at Dean, sliding his hands up his wet hips.

 

“I missed this, Dean,” he whispered, “You looking down at me like this… Getting hard for me, like I’m your whole world.” He let his fingers brush over Dean’s cock before gripping the base and wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently as it hardened against his tongue.

 

Dean gave a choked gasp, burying his fingers in Sam’s wet hair.

 

Sam he focused on sucking Dean to hardness before beginning to bob his head quickly up and down Dean’s thick length. The silken smooth head, the veiny sides, the tickle of Dean’s trimmed pubic hair against Sam’s nose when he deep throated Dean: this was Sam’s heaven.

 

He pulled off Dean before too long, standing straight and taking Dean’s hand. “Come on… Come to bed with me.” 

 

Dean stepped out, grabbing a towel to cover himself, but Sam yanked it away and stood in front of Dean. He dried him off slowly, allowing himself to linger this time on Dean’s stomach. He slid to his knees and kissed over it while he dried Dean’s legs.

 

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered before running his tongue along a thin, silvery stretch mark at Dean’s hip. “Please don’t ever be ashamed of your body with me.”

 

Dean gave a weak nod, his hands twitching at his sides as he fought the urge to cover his stomach. He let himself be pulled into the main room and pushed gently on the bed. Sam made a noise of dissatisfaction when Dean rolled onto his front, raising his ass in the air.

  
“On your back, Dean.”

 

“Sam, please—I know you say you’re fine but I—I’m not okay with this.”

 

“What aren’t you okay with?”

 

“How can you get off looking at me like this?” Dean asked, rolling onto his back. Sam smiled, holding their bottle of lube loosely in his hand.

 

He crawled over Dean, pushing his knees open to slot his hips between them. He arched forward, pressing his cock against Dean’s balls.

 

“Because you’re fucking beautiful, Dean. I’m gonna fuck you tonight. Look you right in the face and watch you fall apart on my cock.” He leaned down, kissing behind Dean’s neck and running his lips over the curve of his neck.

 

“And then,” he growled against Dean’s ear, “I’m gonna pull out and come all over that beautiful stomach. Mark it as mine. Because you will ALWAYS be mine, Dean. Every inch and every pound of you.”

 

Dean shuddered at Sam’s words, his fingers biting into Sam’s lower back. Sam, seeing no more resistance from Dean, moved back and poured the lube over his fingers, slipping one slowly into Dean’s tight hole.

 

“Jesus… You’re so tight,” He panted, working Dean loose with a care only Sam could have. Dean shut his eyes, arching into the touch.

 

“Please, Sam…”

 

“Please what?”

 

“I’m not going to break.”

  
Sam huffed a laugh, leaning over and taking Dean’s nipple into his mouth. He bit down gently, earning a jerk and a moan from Dean. He moved to the other, sucking and biting as he worked a second finger in and spread Dean open.

 

Sam took his time prepping Dean, ignoring Dean’s pleas to hurry up, get inside him, fuck him. Instead he watched Dean fall apart, spent his time feeling every inch he could reach of Dean’s warm insides, nudging his prostate and working him open until Dean’s hole was relaxed and pliant to three fingers. Only then did he withdraw his fingers and lube his own aching cock.

 

“Ready, Dean?” He nudged his blunt tip against Dean’s hole, shivering at the flutter it gave, trying to draw Sam inside.

 

“Yes,” Dean panted, pushing toward Sam.

 

“Look at me,” Sam commanded. When Dean kept his eyes closed, Sam grabbed his chin. “Look at me, Dean.”

 

Dean’s watery green eyes opened slowly, pupils blown black with lust. Sam smiled and nodded. “Good boy… You need to see this. How fucking good you make me feel.”

 

He slipped in then, slowly, his face twisting until it was nothing but pleasure as his cock head finally slipped past Dean’s rim. He leaned over Dean, hooking those beautiful bowed legs around his waist, and pushed the rest of his cock in, not letting his gaze move from Dean’s face.

 

When he was nestled as deep as he could go, Dean’s legs tightened on his waist. “Please, Sam, don’t tease.”

 

“As you wish.” Sam whispered. He shifted until his back was straight, holding Dean’s hips up and baring his entire body to Sam’s view. Wasting no time, Sam began to pound into Dean, shouting in pleasure.

 

Dean was embarrassed at first – the wet slap of his stomach against Sam’s toned one, the obvious jiggle his entire body gave on every deep thrust. He tried to cover his face with a pillow, moaning into it, but Sam ripped it out of his hands and grabbed his chin.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” He panted. He looked down Dean’s body, running his hands over Dean’s stomach and up to his shoulders before gripping them tightly and slamming in with more force than before.

  
Dean could do nothing but scream.

 

Keeping up the pace, Sam slammed hard into Dean over and over, shouting Dean’s name, and watching Dean fall apart under him, body writhing, hands slipping over the bed and Sam’s body for any sort of purchase.

 

Sam pulled out of Dean quickly enough that Dean screamed, then whimpered, “Please, please don’t stop.”

 

“Shh big brother. I’ll make you feel good,” He whispered.

 

He leaned down and spread Dean’s legs as wide as they’d go, ramming his tongue deep into Dean’s soft, pliant hole. The bitter lube and his own precome mingled with Dean’s unique, musky taste in a way that Sam had to moan. His fingers bit into Dean’s ass as he spread him open, eyes closed and tongue as deep as it could go.

  
Dean’s moans began to cut off, his fingers tightening on Sam’s hair. Sam moved away with one final long suck to Dean’s red, swollen rim. He slid up, straddling Dean’s leg.

 

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you, De?” He panted, pushing three fingers deep into Dean and rubbing hard against his prostate.

 

Dean’s entire body shuddered, his legs shaking and twitching. “Y—Yes.”

 

“Beg for it.”

 

“Sam, please!” Dean sobbed, grabbing Sam’s wrist between his legs, “I—I gotta come, please, please let me.”

 

Sam reached his other hand over, grabbing Dean’s cock and stripping it hard and fast.

 

“Come for me then, Dean.” He commanded, and Dean fell apart, come spurting out of his cock in thick ropes that painted his stomach white. Sam moaned just as loudly as Dean did; watching Dean orgasm was probably his favorite part of sex.

  
When Sam had milked Dean for all he had and Dean was a twitching, whining mess, Sam withdrew his fingers, giving the softening cock one more squeeze before straddling Dean’s thighs.

 

He began to stroke his own aching cock hard and fast, meeting Dean’s eyes for a moment before turning his attention downward, to the mess on Dean’s stomach. He grabbed a handful of the extra skin, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

“You know it’s mine,” Sam huffed, breathless, “ _You_ are mine.”

  
With that simple phrase, he came, screaming Dean’s name. He angled his cock so each rope landed on Dean’s stomach and nowhere else.

 

Shivering with exertion, he rubbed his still dribbling cock head through the mess, leaning over Dean. Their lips met in a hot, breathy kiss as Sam rutted his hips gently, his cock pinned between their bellies.

  
When they finally broke, Sam rolled next to Dean and laughed a little, reaching over to play his fingers through the mess they’d left.

 

“See? Your weight doesn’t matter… You still make me so hard it hurts.”

 

Dean laughed tiredly, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder. “You promise you don’t think I’m gross?” He asked into the tanned skin.

 

Sam kissed Dean’s head. “I don’t think I’d have come that hard if I thought you were gross, De. But we’re both kinda gross right now. Lemme go, I’ll grab a washcloth.” He pulled himself away from Dean, padding into the bathroom.

 

Dean watched him go, then looked down at himself. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. If Sam was okay with how he looked, Dean could be too.


End file.
